


Safe and Sound

by peculiarmars



Series: Daddy's Little Prince [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Brainwashing, Forced infantilism, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peculiarmars/pseuds/peculiarmars
Summary: Crabbe Senior is ordered by the Dark Lord to 'babysit'. He cannot refuse a direct order, no matter how uncomfortable knowing one of the Dark Lord's secrets makes him.





	Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated.

When the Dark Lord had told him to stay after the meeting had ended, Gordon Crabbe believed he was fucked. The Dark Lord had been getting angrier and angrier lately, even lashing out at his most loyal follower, Bellatrix Lestrange. He sat stiffly in his chair and waited for his Lord to give him an order.

 

"You have a child, don't you, Crabbe?" The question takes him by surprise.

 

"Yes, my Lord." He has no idea why the Dark Lord is asking him this, they all know he is married with a son.

 

"I have a mission for you," Voldemort says casually. "I need a," He paused. "I believe it is called, _babysitter_." He spat the word as if it were poison. Crabbe stared at him, wondering if the Dark Lord had actually gone mad.

 

"A . . . Babysitter?" He repeated dumbly.

 

"Yes," The Dark Lord smiles. It does nothing to put him at ease. "And as you have a son, I believe you would be a good person to do the job."

 

"Yes, my Lord. May I ask, who is the child?" He doesn't even think there is a child, not really. He actually thinks this is some kind of. . . joke? Either way it didn't hurt to ask.

 

Instead of answering, the Dark Lord's smile widens. He drops what Crabbe assumes is a portkey on the table and spells it to float in front of him.

 

"You will find everything you need already there. Do enjoy yourself," The Dark Lord waves his hand.

 

Crabbe touches the portkey and vanishes.

 

* * *

 

 

Whatever he had been suspecting, it was not _this_.

 

Draco Malfoy, snobbish pureblood Slytherin who was friendly with his own son, was sitting in the middle of the floor, a porcelain doll in his lap and colouring pencils in front of him. He turned around and glanced at him when Crabbe arrived with a thump, and then dropped his eyes to the floor and continued fiddling with the doll.

 

For a moment he simply gapes. Was this the boy's punishment for his failure to kill Dumbledore?

 

It hardly seems suitable. They had all expected the Malfoy boy to be dead; the Dark Lord had left with the boy and they hadn't come back for days. And when the Dark Lord had finally returned, he came alone. This hardly seems like torture.

 

But Draco sits in front of him, real, not a ghost.

 

"Malfoy?"

 

If he hears, Draco doesn't react.

 

"Draco?" He tries. It gets a reaction. Draco shuffles around on his backside until he's facing Crabbe, and in that instant he knows something is wrong. There are no physical indicators, yet something about him is making his skin crawl.

 

"When is Daddy coming back?" Draco says in a small voice, just as Crabbe takes in the childish design of the robes he is dressed in. Crabbe blinks at him.

 

"What?"

 

"When is Daddy coming back?" He repeats. Crabbe stares at him.

 

 _I need a, I believe it is called, babysitter_.

 

He clears his throat.

 

"Uh, in a few days, I suspect. He didn't tell me exactly."

 

Draco nods, and then turns back around to the picture he was drawing. Crabbe stands in the doorway for a moment before deciding to leave him to his own devices. Because he is definitely not going to deliberately avoid him. Definitely not.

 

* * *

 

 

Gordon Crabbe does not tell his son of his best friends miraculous survival, because even if the Slytherin Vincent had been friends with was technically still breathing, the boy himself is certainly dead. He sees it whenever he walks through the door, the way the boy's eyes light up for a second and then seem so sullen, the way he cries for his 'Daddy' even if Crabbe is certain the Dark Lord is hurting him somehow.

 

* * *

 

 

Bellatrix Lestrange has also been chosen as one of Draco's babysitters. It is a strange choice, one that he cannot understand no matter how many times he attempts to put logic to it.

 

Bellatrix had been with the boy that night, and was needed on a mission in the afternoon, and Crabbe was taking over from her that morning. He wondered what state he would find the boy in when he arrived.

 

As it was, he actually didn't find the boy when he first arrived. Bellatrix had already left, and the house had been completely silent. He had attempted to search for him, but after an hour he had given up. Draco couldn't of gotten far, the wards wouldn't allow him the leave the property. Bellatrix Lestrange had most likely scared him half to death.

 

It was another hour before he heard a quiet sniffle and turned to find the Malfoy boy standing with his shoulders hunched, in front of him, trembling. The doll was clutched tightly to his chest and his eyes were red-rimmed. The pyjamas were green and had little golden snitches flying around them. There was an odd smell about him, something acidy and not at all pleasant.

 

"Hello?" He said. He didn't know how to act around Draco. Acting around his son's friend had been fine, but this is something he never signed up for.

 

"W-Where's D-Daddy?" He whispers.

 

"Out, again." He can't offer him any more than that.

 

Draco shifts from foot to foot, and the smell gets more pronounced. Crabbe looks down at his pyjama bottoms and sighs loudly.

 

"I-I didn't mean to, i-it just h-h-appened!" Draco stutters, working himself into a panic. Crabbe resists the urge to sigh again. With the way he was shaking he could guess that Bellatrix had crucio'd the boy until he had pissed himself. Poor kid.

 

"Go run yourself a bath or something."

 

"'M not allowed." He said glumly, staring at the carpet. Crabbe rolls his eyes without the boy seeing.

 

"Well, I'm allowing you." He says harder than he probably should've, because Draco flinches.

 

"But D-Daddy-"

 

Crabbe throws his hands in the air in annoyance and does not miss the way Draco quickly steps away from him and looks at him with wary, untrusting eyes. "Fine, I'll do it!" He stomps past him without checking if Draco was following.

 

Draco sat on the toilet seat and sucked his thumb as Crabbe ran the bath, checking to make sure it was warm enough. Draco stripped stark naked right in front of him without being told, no embarrassment whatsoever. Crabbe gives him some privacy as he climbs into the water.

 

Draco wiggles his fingers under the water, splashing little. Crabbe made to leave the room, wanting nothing to do with this, but Draco stopped him.

 

"Daddy says I'm not allowed to be left 'lone in the bath." He says. Crabbe wants to ignore him and keep walking, but he doesn't want to end up dead for defying an order, so stays. He sits on the toilet seat and looks anywhere but Draco as he splashes around in the warm water.

 

He hands Draco a towel without looking as he hears him climb out and summons him a robe. They all feature designs which are distressingly childish. He acts like he doesn't notice the whip-thin scars that cover his back and bottom.

 

He leaves Draco in the bathroom and walks through the garden, calming himself. He doesn't want to know what fucked up things the Dark Lord did to him to make him like this.

 

He stays outside for hours before going back inside. The boy has to eat, and he's not going to be making dinner himself.

 

As he comes back inside to the kitchen, he passes the drawing Draco had been doing a few days ago when he had first 'babysat' him. Feeling like he shouldn't, he picks up the paper.

 

There are no bright colours on the paper. The colours are all dark browns and greys and blacks. The picture of is a grey house, except there's no door and the fence that surrounds the house is nearly as high as the roof. Crabbe puts the paper back down, deciding that what his Lord decides to do with the boy is his own business.

 

* * *

 

 

Draco eats his dinner silently, the doll perched in his lap. Crabbe eats opposite him, acting like he doesn't the boy keep glancing at him. The boy chews his food slowly, as if it exhausts him. Maybe it does. Being put under the cruciartus curse tends to make one tired. Especially if that person has a child's mentality.

 

When Draco has finally finished, Crabbe clears up the plates with a wave of his wand. He rubs tiredly at his eyes.

 

"So, what do you and, uh, Daddy do after dinner?" He really wished his Lord had given him actual instructions for 'babysitting', instead of just relying on the mockery of a child for direction. He has never stayed with Draco overnight before.

 

Draco shrugs, fiddling with the doll. "Daddy lets me have my bottle with my milk and tells me a story." He almost seems to hesitate as he says it, however Crabbe decides not to push it.

 

"Well, why don't you go upstairs while I get your drink ready?" He suggests. Draco seems relieved at the suggestion, taking it as an order. He almost has a bounce in his step as he disappears up the stairs.

 

Crabbe stares at the chair he had occupied moments ago and then drags himself to the kitchen in search of the milk. The sooner he gets Draco in bed the sooner he can pretend that he isn't doing this, that he doesn't know what the Dark Lord is doing to the boy.

 

Draco was curled up in bed, with his now-silver pyjamas on, when Crabbe came into his room. The bottle had made him feel slightly nauseas, knowing that he wasn't even allowed to drink out of a normal cup.

 

Draco makes grabby hands at the bottle, and then sucks contentedly on the bottle as Crabbe reads him a bedtime story. He avoids doing voices and simply reads in a flat voice, yet he doesn't think Draco really cares.

 

"-none of them ever knew or suspected that the Fountain's waters carried no enchantment at all." He finishes.

 

Draco is almost asleep, and he is about to leave when Draco's hand on his thigh stops him. He looks at him quizzically, and then jerks away in horror as Draco lowers his head to his crotch and starts to undo his belt.

 

Draco scrambles backwards, his bottle falling to the floor, as he starts at Crabbe in what he can only describe as terror.

 

"Salazar, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" He shouts. He regrets it as Draco shudders, gulping back tears.

 

"D-Daddy always w-wants m-me t-to." He mumbles, voice wet with tears.

 

Crabbe edges his way to the door, not wanting anything more to do with this. "Well, I'm not him, and there will be no more of that." He says harshly, before pulling the door open.

 

And then, just as he closes the door, he hears Draco whisper in a voice so quiet he almost misses it;

 

"I wish you were my Daddy."

 

* * *

 

 

There are no more stories after that. He refuses to be around the boy longer than he has to, and takes to sticking the dummy in his mouth when he is around. He knows it is degrading, but he doesn't want to hear anything he has to say.

 

Once Draco throws what he can only describe as a temper tantrum, and instead of punishing him he only walks away. He tried to ignore the fear he saw on the boy's face as he stormed off. When he came back two hours later he was still sitting in that same place, eyes glued to the plate and shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm.

 

He doesn't tell the Dark Lord about it, knowing that that would only make him have a bigger part in his Lord's fucked up fantasies.

 

But then the Battle of Hogwarts happens and his own, real child dies, and he feels he owes it to Vincent to help his former friend.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Houses with no windows or doors, large fences, and drawing with predominantly dark colours are all indicators of sexual abuse in children (as are large hands and feet in drawings, visible genitalia etc)
> 
> The story Crabbe reads to Draco is "The Fountain of Fair fortune" from The Tales of Beetle the Bard.
> 
> I gave Crabbe a first name as he is never given one in the books.


End file.
